


The Cottage of Discovery

by emansil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Partners, Fluff, M/M, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-26 04:10:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2637506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emansil/pseuds/emansil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes paying attention to the events of the day is helpful, sometimes <i>not</i> paying attention, is even more helpful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Extreme thanks and gratitude, as always, go to my beta on this and many others: wwmrsweasleydo

The Cottage of Discovery

“Potter, for fuck’s sake, can’t you hurry? He’s getting ready to Apparate again.” Auror Malfoy’s breath was ragged as he called to his partner, who was a few feet behind him. Harry was bent over, his hands on his knees and his breathing strained.

“Did you get the trace on him? Are we going to be able to continue following him?” Harry rasped.

“Yes, but barely. It won’t last long. That’s why we have to be ready.” Draco turned and held out his hand to his partner. “How many times do you think we’ve Apparated in the past two hours?”

As Harry moved to stand within the side-along Apparition range, he answered, “I’m not sure. Let’s see. First there was Wiltshire, which, as it’s by your home, may not count. I can never remember those allowances. Can you?” 

He stopped and looked at his partner, who shrugged his shoulders in answer. 

“Right. Anyway, then there was the brief stay in the Isle of Wight.”

“Right and then we followed him to Cornwall and from there to the Isle of Man, where we almost lost him.”

“Thanks to your having to do a cleaning spell on your trousers.”

“Because you splashed them with mud when you landed us in the puddle,” Draco snapped and then muttered, “you clumsy oaf.”

“Oi, I heard that.”

“Of course you did. You were meant to. I said you were clumsy, not deaf.”

“Okay, it’s agreed. I’m an oaf and you’re a git. Now that that’s been established, where is our culprit?”

“He’s up there, behind that building.” Draco pointed to a small stone building that stood at the top of the hill. It looked as if may have once, in a previous century, been a shepherd’s cottage. The distance to it didn’t appear that far. 

“Come on, we can probably catch him, if we hurry. We just need to get close enough for him to be within range of our spells, before he takes off again,” Harry said, holding his wand in his right hand. They took off up the hill. 

“Fuck, have I mentioned how much I hate these new citizen protection laws the Ministry has put into effect? I’d be willing to give up a night of heaven with Oliver Wood if we could Apparate up there. I’m tired and cold. Why is it so bloody cold?” Draco whinged as he tromped beside Harry.

Thinking the question about the weather was redundant as it was February Harry ignored it, but looked sideways at him; wondering why it was Malfoy always thought Harry needed to know every detail of his sexual hopes, dreams and aspirations. At least it was better than hearing about his conquests. The play by play of every intimate detail of Draco’s and Marcus Flint’s evening together had sent Harry into a black rage that had lasted for three days and two very cheap bottles of gin. Massive numbers of gin and tonics had been consumed, mostly minus the tonic. 

Wallowing in his misery, Harry had refused both sobering and hangover potion, until his roommate, and best friend, Ginny had held him down and poured one of each into him. 

She was the only one who knew of Harry’s true feelings for his Auror partner. Since Ron and Hermione’s move to Nova Scotia, Ginny had become Harry’s salvation. They’d tried to make their romance work, but after six months of living together and almost killing each other, they had determined they made better friends then lovers. The fact that Harry preferred the pics of naked men in her Top Wizards Magazine to the naked women in his own Top Witches magazine kind of sealed the deal. 

The assignment of Draco, ‘the gay blade extraordinaire,’ Malfoy as his partner had only been the icing on the cake. 

“Potter, are you listening to me?” Malfoy scowled at him. 

So caught up in his own thoughts and the fear of having to listen to more details about what Draco would do with Oliver Wood, if he ever got the opportunity, Harry had indeed, stopped listening. “Sorry, I was thinking about something else.”

“Should we stop? Can you think and walk at the same time, as clearly the thinking and listening together are beyond your skill level.” The hint of mischief in those clear grey eyes let Harry know he was being teased.

“Git,” Harry teased back, “so what were you saying that was so important?”

“I was saying, do you think he’s playing us for fools? I mean could he be leading us on a merry chase, making sure we use up our allotted Apparitions and then he’s off and running and there’s won’t be a damn thing we can do about it?”

“Fuck! You’re right. Come on, we need to hurry.” Harry lowered his shoulders to the wind and took off. “Does it seem to be taking an exceptionally long time to get to reach the cottage? It didn’t look that far away, but we’ve been walking a while and it’s not getting any closer. I don’t like the way that sky looks, either.” The temperature was dropping rapidly and heavy clouds were hiding what sun there was.

“Distances can be deceiving in the middle of –” Draco slowed and looked around. “Any idea where the fuck we are _this_ time?”

“From the barrenness of the landscape, the foot and the half of snow that we’re trudging through, and the fact that it’s almost dark, at only two in the afternoon, I’d say we’re probably either in the Shetland Islands, or the Outer Hebrides. It’s bloody fucking cold as well.” Harry transferred the wand from his right hand and placed it in his left, plunging his right into the depths of his pocket trying to warm it.

“I think I may have mentioned that previously,” Malfoy mumbled under his breath, but loud enough that Harry would have had to be deaf not to hear it. Harry’s deafness or lack thereof had already been discussed. 

A noise from up the hill startled them both and they looked up. Their suspect was standing in front of the cottage waving at them. 

Harry didn’t know if he could run anymore and a quick look at Draco told him he felt the same, but they were both professionals, and still as competitive as they had been in their school days. Neither was willing to give up until the other did. It was what made them so successful as partners and such a disaster whenever partnered with others. 

“ _Stupefy!_ ” Harry shouted as he started running up the hill. 

“ _Expelliarmus_!” yelled Draco, as always, right beside him. 

The unmistakable _crack_ of another Apparition floated down the hill. They stopped, reaching for the other and turned. Only nothing happened. Harry blinked his eyes, and stared at the shepherd’s cottage. 

“Again,” he said and they both stood firm, remembering the three D’s of Apparition: determination, destinations, and deliberation. They turned once more, and again found themselves in the exact same spot. The only difference was now, there were big, fat, wet snow flakes falling rapidly all around them. “Fuck!” he shouted. “Could this day get any bloody worse? Are you sure you got the trace on him?”

“I’m not even going to answer that,” Malfoy snarled at him. “I’m guessing someone miscounted the number of Apparitions.” 

“So, now what?” 

Draco’s shoulders sagged for a few moments before he straightened and pointed at the cottage. “Well, look on the bright side, Potter; at least we have a shelter, of sorts. It could be a lot worse.”

“How? How could it be a lot worse? We’ve got no food, it’s bloody freezing, and we’ve no idea if there’s heat in the cottage, a fireplace or anything. It’s fucking snowing like there’s no tomorrow and it’s duty bound to make up for all that lost time.” Harry knew he was rambling, but how could he spend the next forty-eight hours with just him and Draco in a small one room cottage and not … Well , he wasn’t sure what he’d do, either molest the gorgeous man, or kill the annoying git. One of the two was guaranteed. 

“Let’s go over it all again.” Draco started counting on his fingers. “One, Wiltshire, it must have counted; only I’m pretty sure it shouldn’t have, two, Isle of Wight; three, Wales; four, Isle of Man; and – Wales. We forgot Wales.” He stopped and the two of them stared at each other. 

Harry wanted to throw himself to the ground and hope that it would open up and swallow him whole. “We forgot the thirty seconds we spent in Wales. We weren’t there long, but we did almost land on top of the tour guide telling those Japanese tourists all about Caernarfon Castle. I’m surprised we didn’t remember that. We should be better than this. _I_ should be better than this.” He turned, pacing back and forth. 

“Potter, it’s not the end of the world. We’ll be okay.”

Harry stared at the man next to him, wondering who he was, because surely this was not Draco Malfoy being the voice of reason. He started looking around for large peapods that had brought along the Body Snatchers, from an old Muggle movie. He had snuck down to the front parlour and watched it one Saturday while the Dursley’s had gone out to dinner. Some sort of personality reversal had to have been cast without their knowledge, as Harry was the one acting like a complete and total prat, and Draco was being the calm and collected one. Or maybe, they were in the middle of their own Freaky Friday, another Muggle movie he had watched without anyone else being the wiser.

“What are we going to do for forty-eight hours? What do we do for food?”

“Harry James Potter, is food all you think about? That’s the second time you’ve mentioned food in the past five minutes. How am I expected to survive without my hair products?” Draco laughed at Harry’s look of incredulity.

“My hair is very important to me, almost as important as food is to you,” he teased again. “Seriously, we’ll have dirty hair, and we might get hungry, but we’ll be safe and dry and with a few heating charms we won’t freeze.” 

“And how will we pass the time?” Harry knew what he _wanted_ to do, but was pretty sure Malfoy would take exception to being ravished. 

“We’ll talk; get to know each other better. You can regale me with stories of how you and the other two sides of the triangle spent the entirety of our seventh year popping in and around the more scenic parts of our great country.” Draco then winked at him, and said, “Oh wait. I’m afraid I’ve spoiled the telling. That was pretty much the whole story, wasn’t it?” 

Frustrated with everything that had happened in the past few hours and knowing it was going to take everything he had to survive the next forty-eight, Harry snapped without thinking, “and you can tell me about how you and Voldemort bonded during that same year.” As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them. Cringing he glanced at his partner. 

Draco stopped and turned to stare—no glare--at Harry. “Low blow, Potter, bloody fucking low blow, even for you.”

They had reached the cottage by this time. A timbered door stood at the entrance. Draco made no effort to open it with either hand or magic. Instead he took the opportunity to vent his anger and kicked the door in. 

“Bloody! Bludgering! Fuck! That hurt!” Malfoy cursed as the door flew open. Holding his foot in one hand, he gathered his robes around him and stormed inside. As he was hopping on one foot, it wasn’t nearly as effective as it might have been. Harry followed him in more sedately, thinking it would be for the best if he didn’t comment, and wondering how he was going to make this right. At least he knew how he’d been spending the next two days. 

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

The cottage was sparse and rustic, but sound. Although what kind of vermin lived in its thatched roof was anybody’s guess. Draco’s only response when Harry mentioned it was to look upward, shiver and cast a quick “ _Protego_.”

It was one room basically, divided in to uses by the furniture placement. In one corner stood a small round table with two wooden chairs, the corner cupboard above the table, promised at least the possibility of food. An antique but serviceable wood stove was close by. A single bed, with a bright and colourful quilt atop it, was placed against one wall. Four books lay stacked on the top of a miniscule bed-stand, taking up most of the available space.

A large stone fireplace with wood already stacked beside it, took up another wall. A lantern and bottle of oil and some matches were the only things found on the mantle. A sink and another cupboard for what Harry assumed would be dishes completed the last of the furnishings. The open floor space, what little there was, was covered by a rag rug, the colours of which clashed with those of the coverlet on the bed. 

They both stared in horror at the single bed. They could transfigure it to a double with magic, but not even magic could make two beds out of one. They would just have to share the bed. It was only for two days; they could make it work. Harry took a deep breath and turned.

“So, Potter, where do you plan on sleeping?” Malfoy’s voice was deceptively soft. “Don’t even think for a moment you’ll be sleeping in the same bed with me. Especially not, after that last remark.” Patient and understanding Draco was gone, and the one Harry was more well-acquainted with had returned. 

“Look, I’m really sorry. I can’t apologise enough. It was a stupid thing to say.” Harry chewed on his bottom lip, hoping Draco would forgive him. There was nothing more he could do. 

The silence in the cottage grew and then, “And cruel, don’t forget cruel.” Draco’s mouth was still set in a straight line, but a hint of humour was beginning to return to his eyes.

“And cruel. Yes you’re right. It was stupid and cruel and you have every right to hex me.” Harry paused and looked at Draco in confusion. “Wait? Why haven’t you?”

“You’re my partner. Rule one in the Auror Etiquette Training Manual is: “Don’t hex your partner, no matter how obnoxious and annoying he may be, and Rule –“

“Wait,” Harry interrupted. “There’s an etiquette guide for Aurors? How come I’ve never seen it?”

“It’s an unwritten etiquette book. If you had been raised with any degree of manners and decorum you would know this. Now, as I was saying, Rule two for not hexing you is: You’re a very powerful wizard. I might have need of your skills warding off things that go bump in the night. So un-hexed you shall remain, but,” he stopped and narrowed his eyes, “don’t push my limits. You’re already skating pretty close to the edge.” Draco then turned and cast a _Scourgify_ on the bed and the remaining furniture.

“Bump in the night?” Harry snorted to himself as he laid the wood in the grate and set it ablaze.

“Watch yourself Potter; you’re getting even closer to that edge. I can’t help it. I’ve a fear of the dark and of places set in the middle of god-forsaken nowhere, have had since I was a small child.”

Harry remembered Draco’s absolute terror in the Forbidden forest their first year, and knew Draco was telling the truth. A quick glimpse in the cupboard showed several cans of soup, some potatoes, carrot and apples. There was also some instant coffee and Earl Grey tea. It wasn’t much, but at least they wouldn’t starve. Mutterings coming from the other side of the room had Harry turning his head in that direction. 

Draco was holding the books that had been on the bed stand. “Interesting collection of reading material here.” He then laughed outright, “Dear Merlin, it appears the cottage was last inhabited by a religious Muggle/Wizard combination. There’s a Bible, a battered copy of Tales of Beedle the Bard, a Nigella Lawson cookery book and…Oh my, well this is most telling.” 

Harry had begun to search the cottage for some cups; something warm would go down quite well about now. The fire was blazing nicely, but there was still a feel of chill and damp in the air. As he did, he waited for Draco to share more information, feeling more optimistic about their current situation. Maybe it wasn’t going to be a complete disaster, after all. 

When nothing more was forthcoming, he turned to look. Draco was laughing. Laughing so hard he appeared to be having trouble breathing. At Harry’s glare he started laughing even harder, shaking his head indicating he could not speak at the moment. When he’d finally calmed down, he said, “I’m sorry. I’m better now. It’s just; this is a book we’ll have no need of.” 

“Oh, and why is that?” Harry asked.

“Well, because I’m already well-versed in the subject. And you because—well trust me. You and the Weaselette are so attached at the hips; you’ll have no need of what this book has to offer.” 

“Ginny and I are just room-mates. We’re not romantically involved anymore, haven’t been for several months.” There was no response. 

“Are you going to let me see the book? Or do I have to “ _Accio Book”,_ ” Harry said with a flick of his wand. As he’d not differentiated which book he wanted, all four of them went flying towards him. He said a quick _thank you_ , that there were only the four. 

Still not a word from Draco, though he looked as if might soon have several things to say. Not all of them necessarily good either.

Holding the books in one hand, Harry examined the titles of them all and then blushed, feeling the heat rise in his face, and almost dropped the batch. _Sex Tips for Wizards who Fancy Other Wizards_. Fuck, fuck, fuck. If he’d been alone, he’d have gladly spent hours studying and practicing the techniques shown, but not with Draco Malfoy, the living embodiment of his most recent and continual, wet dreams. Watching and critiquing, well-- everything.

Harry’s renewed attempt at disinterest failed when he flipped through a few pages. The pictures were graphic and in colour, there was a resurgence of interest below the belt. Although he tried hard not to, he couldn’t help it, he lifted his gaze in Draco’s direction.

Draco was staring at him very intently, looking at Harry holding the book, then casting his eyes downward toward Harry’s crotch and moving back up to stare at Harry’s furiously flushed face. 

“Umm, so Potter,” his partner finally spoke, as Harry tried, unsuccessfully, to calm his embarrassment. Not to mention beg and plead for his sudden blooming erection to diminish. “Exactly why did you and Ginny break up? I’ve seen her with Longbottom a lot. And how do you feel about that?”

“They’re together now, and I’m okay with it. They’re both really happy.” 

“And the other part of the question?” Draco prompted.

“It’s a really long story,” Harry mumbled as he returned the books making sure the _Sex Guide_ was the one on the bottom, to lessen the temptation. Several of the pages were bookmarked by scraps of paper tucked in them. More than anything, Harry wanted to study those pages in detail, or any pages for that matter, but was terrified of the reaction his body might have. 

“You’ve picked the perfect time. It seems I have around forty-eight hours in front of me with nothing on my agenda.” Draco transformed the bed into a double and patted the space next to him. “Come sit and tell Uncle Draco all about it.”

“’I’d rather sit at the table if you don’t mind.” Harry heard himself saying, his mouth once again taking control of his brain. He’d meant to say something along the lines of ‘When Hagrid and the Giant Squid make little Squidlets will I tell you the reason for my break up. But, of course now that he thought about it, knowing Hagrid, that scenario might happen sooner than would be safe.

His face must have shown his inner turmoil as Draco said softly, “I’m sorry. This looks serious.” He stood and moved over to the wood stove. “Here, sit. I’ll make us some tea, and put the soup on. Okay?”

So they sat and they talked. Somehow, Harry ended up telling Draco everything. Of how he’d discovered he was more attracted to men to women. How after they’d been working together for a while, the things that Draco did that had always irritated him in the past, Harry now found funny and endearing. How he’d started to wonder how it would feel to run his fingers through Draco’s hair, just to see if it was as soft and silky as it looked. 

Draco reached out and took one of Harry’s hands in his and placed it in his hair. Harry ran his fingers through the blond locks. They were blissfully soft and silky. Harry had never felt anything like it, he wanted nothing more than to keep running his fingers through it, but Draco indicated he was to keep talking. 

So Harry told him how he’d become fascinated by the shape and colour and texture of Draco’s lips, and how he’d stayed awake many nights imagining how it would feel to kiss them, how they would feel under his.

Lost in his own thoughts, unprepared and off balanced, Harry almost fell with Draco pulled him in and pressed his lips against Harry’s. Harry’s mouth fell open in surprise and he was even more shocked when the tip of Draco’s tongue slid over his lips. _Please, please, if this is a dream, don’t make me wake,_ Harry begged as Draco’s tongue continued its caress of Harry’s mouth. But he found this too had to end. He whimpered and tried to follow as Draco pulled away.

Draco snickered lightly, and said, “Silly Potter, don’t you know there’s going to be plenty of time for more. Come on now, finish your story. I can’t wait to hear how it ends.”

Emboldened by what he’d just heard and the softness of Draco’s lips, Harry told him how there’d been even more sleepless nights wondering if the spot behind Draco’s ear tasted as delectable as he imagined. And how, beyond that, how he wanted to test the difference between biting and sucking on Draco’s nipple versus Ginny’s. Comparatively speaking only, of course, just to see what the difference was.

Draco stood and removed his robe, and began unbuttoning his shirt. Harry’s mouth was suddenly bereft of all moisture, until the shirt completely removed. Draco pushed back the table, and with a smirk soon straddled Harry’s lap. Swallowing then became imminent as saliva flooded his mouth.

“I feel I need to help you find the answers to those questions. A sleepless Auror is a tired Auror and we can’t have that. Think of the lives that may be in danger, if you’re not performing at your peak,” he teased as he tilted his neck to the side, giving Harry access. 

The taste was like a fine delicacy, spicy and sweet. Like nothing he had imagined and everything he wanted. Harry licked and sucked and nibbled until Draco’s hands pressed his head downward. 

Harry kissed his way down, Draco quivered beneath him. Harry’s lust grew, and he thrust upward. In answer, Draco arched backwards bringing their erections hard against the other. They moaned in unison. A dusky nub appeared in front of Harry’s mouth and he latched on to it. Draco ground against him as he suckled and tongued the nipple, pinching and rolling the other one with the thumb and forefinger of his other hand. 

Above him Draco mumbled over and over, “Fuck Potter, please. Please, oh fuck.”

“Please what?” Harry asked mumbling around his mouthful and bit down. Draco reacted with a shuddering moan. 

“Please. Let’s take this to the bed.”

Panic flew through Harry. _The bed._ He wasn’t prepared for the bed. He didn’t know what to do in bed with another man. The words, “no, let’s just stay here,” were about to pour forth when Draco rolled his hips and Harry again felt the hardness of another cock against his. All caution to the wind, he said quietly, “I don’t know what to do.” 

Draco laughed then, long and loud, and with each guffaw and snort, the friction against Harry’s cock was more delicious. “Never mind Potter, I think you might be a natural and what you can’t figure out on your own I can teach you. Besides,” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, “we’ve an instruction manual right here. Granger would be so pleased to find you learning new things and applying what you’ve learned so soon after.” 

Harry’s responding laughter was cut off by Draco’s mouth once again finding his, and the kiss sent sparks flying to Harry’s brain. Still kissing they stood and tumbled towards the bed, Harry almost tripping on the trousers that had somehow fallen around his ankles. He had no memory of undoing them.

Draco’s mouth moved from Harry’s lips to the shell of his ear. “I’m a wizard Harry, I’ve never met a pair of trousers, buttoned or not, I couldn’t manage. Not when I’m as determined to get them off, as I am now.” 

The distance to the bed was a short one. Harry was ready to jump into it when Draco stopped him. Harry looked up and what he saw in Draco’s gaze took his breath away. It was caring, it was affection, it was tenderness; it was everything Harry felt for Draco being mirrored in Draco’s expression. “Harry, you’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted you, how I’ve longed to have you naked, and in my arms.” 

Instantly they each stood naked before the other. With a smile from Draco and a laugh of pure joy from Harry they tumbled onto the bed together.

~

Hours later and several pages of the guide studied, practiced and examinations completed, they got up from the bed. The fire was low and the soup had formed such a crust on the bottom of the pan only magic could remove it. Outside the snow continued to fall on a landscape that was already covered in drifts that changed the entire appearance of the countryside. 

They each winced as they sat at the table drinking fresh tea, while another pot of soup simmered on the stove. Harry had been determined to try it all. There was no way he would let Draco take one position without trying it himself immediately after, or as soon as they were physically capable. He was sore, but the feeling of having had Draco inside him, was one he couldn’t wait to try again.

~

Not quite two days later Harry started to fall into what seemed a bottomless depression. He didn’t want it to end. They’d not talked of a future beyond these two days. Harry didn’t know if _they_ had a future. These two days together had been so wonderful. He wanted to stay here. Wanted to stay with Draco, to laugh and share and fuck, to kiss and read to each other from Beedle the Bard. Wanted to spend more time practicing those things they had found in the Guide, especially those things that were new to Draco. He wanted to eat soup and drink coffee until all hours of the night and then crawl under the covers and fuck some more. To wrap the quilt around them as they stood in front of the small window and watched the drifts of snow grow around the cottage, the hills and valleys of the surrounding countryside beautiful in its starkness. They could have been alone in the world, the few long haired sheep that dotted the hillsides the only other living beings around them. 

Harry’s thirst for Draco was unquenchable, he could never have enough. He wanted to play more games of wizard’s chess and argue over who was cheating. They had found the game tucked under the far corner of the bed when they had fucked so hard the bed had scooted across the floor, exposing the chess pieces. He wanted more make up sex when an argument about whose turn it had been to keep they soup from burning , again, had turned into a screaming row. He wanted to stay here until he knew every inch of Draco’s body inside and out, and could draw its perfection from memory alone. 

Draco, too, was quiet as they started dressing when the forty-eight hours were at an end. “I was thinking, before we go to all the trouble of getting completely dressed,” he said pulling up his trousers. “We should probably check to make sure the restriction has been lifted. We’ve never had to test it before, the timing could be faulty.” 

“Oh, of course.” Harry responded as he pulled his jersey over his head. Only socks and pants covered his bottom half. 

Draco’s arm snaked around Harry’s waist and he pulled him in close. Immediately he preceded to Apparate them, in rapid succession, around the cottage. From the bed to the stove, the stove to the fireplace, the fireplace to just outside the front door, and then back to in front of the stove.

Dizzy from it all, Harry shouted. “Stop! Draco, what are you doing? You’re using up all the allowable Apparitions.” 

The beauty of the answering smile almost blinded him. “I know. I’m not ready to leave yet. Are you?” he asked as he pulled Harry towards him for one last turn. 

Harry shook his head, returning his own smile. “My turn,” Harry said; then thought. “Wait, food?”

Draco’s face lit up in response. “Basket on top shelf –stuffed full of shrunken goods, crackers and peanut butter and orange marmalade, and there’s also more soup.” 

“What! How do you know? Has it been there this whole time?” Harry managed to gasp out. 

“I couldn’t sleep. I was up trying to find a way that we could stay. Found it early this morning. Now you won’t have to worry about your next meal, Draco said with a smile.

Harry barely managed to let him finish speaking before he busied Draco’s mouth with his own. “Clever you,” he said between kisses. The D’s, deliberation, determination, and destination firmly in mind and thinking there really should be a fourth, desire; he Apparated them across the cottage where they tumbled onto the bed.

The end


End file.
